


The Very Merry NOT Valentine's Fic (sort of)

by Maxine



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, This is just silly and cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 19:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxine/pseuds/Maxine
Summary: Snow, popsicles, and golf carts. No, seriously, those were the prompts.





	The Very Merry NOT Valentine's Fic (sort of)

**Author's Note:**

> Valentine's Day fic written in 2007. Silver Pair! I asked a friend for some prompts and worked with what she gave me.

Stomping through the locker room after morning practice is not usually a habit of Ohtori’s. Most days he leaves that to Shishido and instead goes about his own routine quite amicably, humming to himself in the shower, dressing with a bounce in his steps, and then grinning his way out the door.  
  
Today is not most days.  
  
“Che, what’s got your tighty whities in a twist?” Mukahi says as Ohtori slams the door to his locker shut and nearly strangles himself with his own tie. Technically the third-years should have left the club months ago, but Atobe is nothing if not stubborn and has yet to make any of them give up their locker space, even if he relinquished captainship back in September.  
  
Ohtori scowls. “Just. Not a good day,” he grumbles, still fighting with the ends of his tie.  
  
“The day’s barely started,” Oshitari drawls from Mukahi’s other side. “Did I miss something during practice?” He frowns at Ohtori’s shoddy attempts at a Windsor knot and comes over to bat his hands away and do it himself.  
  
“No,” Ohtori says with a frown. He crosses his arms sullenly. “Just…”  
  
“Ne, Ohtori-kun, it’s _Valentine’s Day_!” Jiroh speaks up, eyes wide and his face pink from the shower. He’s been awake all morning, bouncing all over the courts, which Ohtori suspects has something to do with the few fangirls that managed to slip past Atobe before he had Kabaji round them all up and send them away. The empty box of chocolates he found in the trashcan only aids his theory. “How can it not be a good day?? We get CHOCOLATE today!!” He looks like he’s about to start bouncing again, so Ohtori takes a careful step backwards to avoid getting caught in the excitement.  
  
“I can get chocolate any day,” he mutters, picking up his bag.  
  
“But today it’s FREE!” Jiroh bounces over, hopping up onto the bench so he can sling his arms around Ohtori’s neck from behind. “What’s with the pouting?”  
  
“I’m not _pouting_!” Ohtori says. “Look, senpai, I just don’t like Valentine’s Day, okay?”  
  
“It’s your birthday today, ahn?” Atobe asks, busy staring at his reflection as he artfully tries to style his wet hair.  
  
Ohtori has to resist the urge to undo Oshitari’s knot and choke himself to death all over again. “…Yes, Atobe-san,” he says levelly instead, barely able to keep himself from glaring.  
  
There’s a loud _clack_ from the direction of the showers, and Ohtori looks over to see Shishido hastily picking up his shampoo bottle, towel wrapped around his waist. “Today’s your birthday, Choutarou?” he asks. Ohtori rubs his forehead, already tired and he’s not even been to his first class yet.  
  
“Yes,” he says again, ignoring the excited cry from Jiroh and the sudden tightening of his arms.  
  
“You should have said something!” he exclaims, releasing him and jumping off the bench again. “I would have gotten you something!”  
  
“No, that’s exactly why I didn’t say anything!” Ohtori says quickly. “I don’t _want_ anything, I’ll probably end up with ten pounds of chocolate anyway--”  
  
“He did get a ton last year,” Hiyoshi interrupts, walking up with his bag. He smirks. “Some of the other guys were jealous.”  
  
Ohtori lets out a frustrated sound. “Most of them are birthday presents! Or Valentine’s chocolate _disguised_ as birthday presents and EVERY YEAR I have to return every girl’s gift with something else on White Day and my hand gets cramped from writing so many thank-you cards--”  
  
“You do that?” Shishido interrupts this time, leaning backwards around Mukahi to look at Ohtori as he buttons up his shirt.  
  
“Don’t you?”  
  
Shishido scowls. “Of course not. Why would I waste my time like that?”  
  
“Fortunately, not all of us are as lacking in the manners department as _you_. Na, Kabaji?”  
  
“Usu.”  
  
“Shut up, lameass!”  
  
Atobe huffs. “You wound me, Shishido,” he says with a roll of his eyes. He turns to Ohtori. “You could turn them down from the start,” he suggests. “They might be heartbroken at first, but thirty seconds later they’d be jumping at the next available bachelor. Women are pliable like that.” He says it like he actually has any idea, but Ohtori knows for a fact that Atobe has never once even gone on a date with another girl and that his knowledge of what women like is probably limited to knowing what perfume his mother wears on Sundays.  
  
“Then they cry,” he says anyway. “I tried that one year and my teacher yelled at me for upsetting every girl in class.”  
  
Hiyoshi blinks. “When was that?”  
  
“…I was six. And my attempts at turning them down involved shoving snow down their jackets.”  
  
Shishido snorts as he comes up and claps Ohtori on the shoulder. “That’s the way I’d like to do it _every_ year.”  
  
“Maybe you should get a bodyguard,” Mukahi says, snickering. “Atobe could lend you Kabaji.”  
  
“I don’t _need_ a bodygua--”  
  
“That might actually work,” Atobe cuts in. “You’re in the same year, it should be easy enough to manage.”  
  
“Yeah, but not the same class!” Ohtori protests.  
  
“Details,” Atobe says with a wave of his hand. “I doubt anyone would even notice if he snuck into your class for the day. Na, Kabaji?”  
  
“…Usu.”  
  
There is a moment of confused silence as everyone tries to figure out whether or not Atobe is actually serious, and then Ohtori speaks again. “I…I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be okay.”  
  
“I’ll take your chocolate!” Jiroh says with a wide smile. “If you don’t want it!”  
  
“That doesn’t solve the problem of me getting it all in the first place, senpai,” Ohtori says, grinning wryly. He sighs. “And I’ll probably avoid the cafeteria today, so don’t look for me.”  
  
“Get someone to bring you food,” Oshitari says. He shoves Shishido forward. “Like this guy.”  
  
“Get off!” Shishido snaps, slapping at Oshitari’s hands.  
  
“Oh, I have lunch,” Ohtori says. “Really, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.” He grins sheepishly. “I just get grumpy. Sorry to bring you all into it.”  
  
“I could offer you my personal armed guard?”  
  
He’s not even out of the _locker room_ and Ohtori already wants to crawl back into bed.  
  
* * *  
  
He arrives five minutes late to class to avoid the screaming girls in the hallway, and then stares determinedly at the blackboard straight through until lunch, because he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of those around him. He can still feel their hungry stares though, and it makes him slouch in his seat as if that will help him disappear into thin air.  
  
Eight seconds before the lunch bell is supposed to ring, Ohtori is already out of his chair and bolting toward the door so that he’ll be prepared to make a mad dash down the hall and out to the courtyard before anyone can corner him.  
  
Then someone shouting, “Hold up, Choutarou!” at his back brings him to an abrupt halt.  
  
“Shishido-san!” he exclaims, spinning around. “I told you I wasn’t eating in the cafeteria today!”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shishido says, as he glances up and down the hall. “I’ve got your escape route planned.”  
  
“You’ve… Wait, what?” Ohtori blinks, and belatedly notices that Shishido’s got his jacket on.  
  
Shishido shakes his head, grinning, and drags a hand through hair that is just starting to get long enough to be tugged back into a messy ponytail. “Let’s go,” he says, and then he’s tugging Ohtori down the staircase and outside.  
  
It’s cold out and the two inches of snow that crunch beneath their feet just adds to it, yet there are still as many people eating lunch outside as ever. Ohtori stays close to Shishido and doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, but they still have to make three sharp turns in the opposite direction when someone starts to walk up to them.  
  
“Where are we going?” Ohtori asks as they round the corner to where the golf club equipment closet is. He eyes the row of golf carts as Shishido digs around in his pocket for something.  
  
“Got this off Yamada,” he says, holding up a key with a smirk. Not that Ohtori has any idea who Yamada is, but he nods anyway, giving Shishido a questioning look. “Come on,” Shishido says. “We’re going for a ride.”  
  
Ten minutes later the cart is slipping and sliding along the path, running on snow that has long since been packed down and hardened into ice, and Ohtori is sure he is going to die.  
  
“Sh-Shishido-san!” he yells, gripping the edge of his seat as they go flying over a bump. “Are you sure we should be doing this??”  
  
“It’s fine!” Shishido calls back over the sound of the engine. He presses down on the gas petal and the whole vehicle lurches forward. Ohtori had no idea golf carts could go so fast, and he swears his entire life just flashed before his eyes. “I’ve done this with Atobe before! Don’t tell him I told you!”  
  
Ohtori laughs helplessly and not a little hysterically. “Have to admit,” he says, clinging to the door as they take a sharp turn that almost sends him flying, “I can’t picture Atobe-san ever doing something like this!”  
  
“He skips just as much as the rest of us! Just tries to hide it, is all!”  
  
Whatever Ohtori was about to say next disappears at the sudden line of trees that seem to pop out of the ground in front of them. “Shishido-san!” he shouts, and hears a muffled curse from the other boy, followed by a short laugh and a quick jerk of the steering wheel that sends them skidding into a snow bank off the side of the path.  
  
“Whoops,” Shishido says, and then laughs some more while Ohtori busies himself with prying his fingers from the doorframe and shaking the snow out of his hair.  
  
“We almost _died_!” he grumbles, and Shishido rolls his eyes.  
  
“Hardly,” he says. “And at least no one can catch you out here.” Ohtori doesn’t actually have any idea where ‘out here’ is, but he can’t be bothered to ask. Shishido turns around suddenly and starts scrambling through his bag. “I brought food.”  
  
“I told you I had my own lunch,” Ohtori says, but he watches curiously anyway.  
  
“Yeah, but I bet you don’t have these.” He reemerges triumphant, holding out two popsicles and looking a little too proud of himself.  
  
“…Shishido-san,” Ohtori says slowly. “It’s freezing outside.”  
  
“I know! Only thing keeping them from melting!” Shishido says with a grin, and thrusts one into Ohtori’s hand.  
  
“But--”  
  
“You get one everyday in the cafeteria,” Shishido says, peeling the paper off his and sticking it in his mouth, regardless of the temperature. “Didn’t want you to miss out just because of some stupid girls.”  
  
Ohtori blinks. Then he unwraps his own. “Grape,” he says. “You got me grape.”  
  
Shishido pauses. “That’s what you usually get, isn’t it?”  
  
Ohtori shakes his head once, and laughs a bit unsteadily. “No, it is. I just…it is. Ah, sorry -- don’t mind me. Grape’s my favorite, yes.” He beams. “Thanks, Shishido-san.”  
  
“Heh.” Shishido ducks his head, finishing off his popsicle. “Don’t be lame, Choutarou.”  
  
“Hmm.” Ohtori sucks thoughtfully on his own, the ice cold against his tongue but no worse than the air around them. “Don’t you have class, Shishido-san?”  
  
Shishido waves him off. “We’re already late by now.” He digs around in his bag again, pulling out a box of chocolate. “Hope you didn’t want to go back. Here, want one? I swiped it from Oshitari’s pile.”  
  
“I can get the homework later,” Ohtori says, swallowing the last bit of grape and reaching for a piece of chocolate. He normally avoids it like the plague today, but somehow skipping class with Shishido while sitting in the middle of the woods in a golf cart outweighs his annoyances about his birthday.  
  
They manage to polish off their lunches, as well as the entire box of chocolates before the cold finally starts to seep in. Ohtori shifts, sticking his hands beneath his armpits, and he feels Shishido settle in closer beside him.  
  
“We should probably get back,” Shishido says. “They’ll notice the golf cart missing.”  
  
“Yeah,” Ohtori says absently, even though he’s suddenly not cold anymore and his face actually feels rather hot. He swallows as Shishido leans more against him for a second to get the leverage to push himself up straight again. “T-try not to get us killed this time, eheh.”  
  
Shishido smirks and tosses his hair back. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs, but the look on his face says otherwise.  
  
Twenty minutes and at least five years off his life later, Ohtori finds himself tiptoeing around the outside of the school, staying tight to the wall behind Shishido as he peeks around corners so they don’t get caught.  
  
“If we can make it to the roof, we should be okay for the rest of the day,” Shishido says, glancing at his watch. “There’s only about an hour left of classes, anyway.” Ohtori nods absently, busy texting Hiyoshi to make sure the other boy grabs his bag for him.  
  
They sneak through the school, past open classroom doors and teachers on hall duty. Shishido pauses outside one class, making a face at someone inside as he points and laughs silently. When Ohtori slips past he catches sight of Atobe glowering at him, but he can’t do anything other than shrug sheepishly and grin.  
  
It feels colder after being inside once they step out onto the roof, but they stand close enough together that their body heat keeps them comfortable.  
  
“Here,” Shishido says, pulling another box of chocolate out of his bag. “Want more?”  
  
“Won’t Oshitari-senpai notice his chocolate’s gone missing?” Ohtori asks, but he takes a couple pieces anyway.  
  
Shishido shrugs, popping one into his own mouth. “He gets enough of it,” he says. “He’ll live.”  
  
“If you say so.” Ohtori hesitates over his next words, and then ends up blurting them out all at once. “Thank you for today!”  
  
“What?” Shishido says, and then he promptly scowls and looks away. His hands move halfway toward adjusting his hat before he remembers he’s in his school uniform and doesn’t have one on, so instead he pats down his hair awkwardly like that was what he’d meant to do in the first place. “Don’t thank me,” he mutters. “I didn’t feel like going to class, is all. Figured you wouldn’t mind coming with.”  
  
Ohtori grins around another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t mind at all, Shishido-san.”  
  
“Hm.” Shishido looks vaguely flustered, so Ohtori politely glances the other direction, even if he’s still smiling. “Is it good?” Shishido asks, nodding towards the chocolate.  
  
“Very,” Ohtori says enthusiastically. “You know how to steal the fancy stuff.”  
  
Shishido’s cheeks go red. “Well. It’s Hyoutei…” he mumbles, like that’s supposed to explain away the extra expense. Ohtori just shrugs.  
  
Eventually the bell rings, signaling the end of the day, and the two of them make their way back down to the tennis club locker room where Hiyoshi hands him his bag with a wry grin and Atobe snidely asks if they had a nice afternoon.  
  
Jiroh stumbles in on the end of that question, looking half asleep. “Afternoon?” he asks, stifling a yawn behind his hand. “Shishido was gone all day.”  
  
“Jiroh!” Shishido snaps, just as Ohtori says, “He was?”  
  
Jiroh nods, his eyes drooping. “Didn’t even show up for morning roll call,” he says, and then promptly lies down on a bench and passes out.  
  
Ohtori tries to catch Shishido’s eyes, but the other boy is looking determinedly away.  
  
Mukahi and Oshitari show up next. “Yuushi beat me _again_ ,” Mukahi complains. “He got chocolate from TWENTY-TWO girls!”  
  
“You counted?” Ohtori asks.  
  
“I got twenty- _five_ ,” Atobe says smugly.  
  
“Counted, took names, and everything else,” Oshitari says.  
  
Ohtori watches Shishido’s ears go red out of the corner of his eye. “None missing?” he asks again.  
  
“Not that I know of,” Oshitari says, blinking. “Although if you want one, birthday boy…” He holds out a box, shrugging.  
  
Ohtori takes a step back, grinning.  
  
“No thanks,” he says. “I got chocolate from someone already.” Shishido goes rigid and peaks at him from behind the door of his locker.  
  
“You’re awfully cheerful for someone who doesn’t like Valentine’s Day,” Mukahi says.  
  
Ohtori beams.  
  
“That's because I’ll only be writing one thank-you card this year.”  
  
  
 **FIN**


End file.
